


Celeste

by sanguispraecantrix



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, F/F, I have a lot of feelings, give zelda a gf, soft! Zelda, soulmate fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-28 22:40:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17191607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanguispraecantrix/pseuds/sanguispraecantrix
Summary: For Gina and Nikkatell me what y’all think <3





	Celeste

For Gina and Nikka.

“ _Mortals and Witches do not belong to the same world_ ,” even as a young girl Zelda knew how to follow her elder’s lessons. Her old grandmother told her this when she was merely starting to follow the Path of Night. To her, words are as powerful as a gesture. Precisely why the most powerful of spells have both, and to only have one will be betraying to its fullest power.

Yet, she found herself in France—the year? Far too easy to forget when you are young and you have the whole world ahead of you with no hindrances, no limitations—swallowing the very words she so cherished. Her name was Celeste, and what a being she was—ethereal, mysterious, and so utterly beautiful. It was an unholy day when she was reading by the Seine, seated on one of the benches that surrounded the river. Her seat provided the perfect view of the sunset. Zelda made it a point to say a prayer to display gratitude to the Sun for the wisdom the day brought and to welcome forth the freedom the Moon brings along with the darkness. On Celeste’s way to the bridge, a man made a comment how her backside looks glorious in that maroon skirt she wore. Celeste flipped the man off rebutting how an uncultured of a swine he is, and that he should just keep his eyes to himself. How powerful the scene is; considering how patriarchal the times still was. Zelda couldn’t fight off the urge to murmur a little spell to help the brunette out and let the man tumble his way to the chilly waters of the river. Many in the public had to stifle laughter.

Celeste smiled in triumph and Zelda went back to her book. Needless to say she was already distracted, and attempted at another gaze. To her surprise, Celeste was already walking towards her direction. The redhead tried to look aloof, like her heart is not beating a bit faster.

“ _Bonjour_ ,” Celeste greeted, her voice is laced with the thick French accent. “As rich as vintage red wine.” Zelda thought.

“ _Bonjour,_ ” Zelda so uncharacteristically replied with a smile most warlocks will swoon over.

“ _Ah, an American… I can sense from the accent._ ” The brunette took sat on the bench beside Zelda. The redhead prayed as hard as she could for the sound of her heartbeat to not give her away. Anyway, if asked, she could always blame the heat for the sudden redness of her cheeks that her complexion makes hard to conceal.

“ _I’ve seen you here before. Thrice actually… and everyday, it’s a different book. I must say I’m impressed_ ,” Celeste’s gaze transferred from the glorious view of the river to Zelda, a sight equally as gorgeous. “I’m Celeste.”

“J _e ma’pelle Zelda_ ,” she had insisted to reply in French; this time to prove that she had none of that ‘American accent’ and she can seamlessly speak any language of her choosing. However, the thought of Celeste taking note of her usual appearance at the Seine made her smile a bit more. The moment she met the brunette’s gaze, she was quite taken aback. Zelda saw a light in Celeste’s deep mahogany hues, not just a faint glint of a spark, but a light that shone back to her. Could it possibly be that this woman before her is the physical manifestation of the soul her soul belongs to—her Soul Mate. No, it’s a pure happenstance. It could easily be mistaken for the river reflecting in her eyes, nothing more.

“ _Well, this is a poetry book now,_ ” she laughed off her thoughts and offered up the cover for the woman to look at.

“ _You know, Zelda, this probably seems rash, but…_ ” Celeste trailed off and the confident aura she seemed to posses earlier diminished.

“ _Today is my birthday, and I have no one better to spend it with. What do you think of a glass of wine or two back in the city?_ ” It was her undeniable magnetism that ignited Zelda’s impulses. So, almost automatically, Zelda agreed. The last rays of the sun lingered on the river, and the two women made their way to the Paris nightlife scene. They decided on a restaurant, not too fancy, it was more important to them for the place not to be crowded by people so that they might talk and know each other better.

“ _Quite a scene back in the river. I would’ve done the same thing,_ ” Zelda started the conversation as she took her first sip of wine. It is still there despite the low lighting of the place, the light that shone on Celeste’s eyes.

“ _Ah, yes. Apparently you have to instruct even grown men how to act._ ” There was venom in the brunette’s voice, and Zelda quite liked it.

The night was spent in heated conversations that varied in topics such as: Tolstoy and Austen, failed relationships with boyfriends, even exchange opinions about a designer’s latest collection.

This is the way their relationship has been, thought-invoking conversations, dancing in the empty streets of Paris in the unholiest of hours, kisses shared with equal parts of gentleness and passion. The first time they made their affections known through a kiss was like a rebirth. Zelda knew no other kiss, she even questioned: Has she been kissing wrong her whole life? The warlocks and witches she’s kissed did not feel the same, entirely far from it. Then, it struck her, is this how it feels when you finally find someone you belong to? They would often ask. _Who would fail to fall deep and completely enthralled if the woman before you is as captivating_?

The first time Zelda wholly told Celeste about her kind, the redhead had expected her to flee and not understand, but it was Celeste, she always understood.

“ _I think that is astounding, mon amour!_ ” The wonder was evident in her tone as she flung her arms around Zelda. It was a gesture she not usually welcomed, but for Celeste, she would do anything, like she knew she would for her. The brunette went on the whole night talking about how witches were the ones who truly speak the language of the Universe, and how truly an honor it was to be loved by one. They stayed up the whole night, wrapped in each other’s arms, as the moon seemed to beam above, blessing the two women and their union.

The night before, Zelda contemplated to ask Celeste if she wanted to go back to Greendale with her to meet the Spellmans. It was a huge step to take for Zelda knew too well that her family could be a handful, but she it prepared to dive face first. As she slept, a vision spoke her. The Seine ran dry, and instead of the glorious blue water that streamed, she saw decaying animals scattered around the place. The usual bench she sat on replaced by a gargoyle that looked utterly disappointed and frowned upon her. Zelda bolted up from her bed, catching breath as cold sweats beaded her forehead. A sudden pain struck her body that hindered her to move for a good five minutes. It was as if she was shot right in the spine. There was a settling feeling of dread in her core, and she craved for the comfort that Celeste brought.

She walked the darkness alone to harbor some time to clear her head of such nasty visions to once again be with the light of her life. Celeste had insisted on staying in her own flat because she had an early symposium to get ready for. It was six flights of stairs before her place. Stairs be damned, being a witch had its perks. Once in front of her door, she was quick to note that it was already slightly ajar; the dread that settled deep within her stirred.

“ _Mon amour_ ,” the apartment positively smelled like her, but the vibrancy of her soul seemed to not occupy the place as it usually does. Zelda made quiet footsteps; each step was accompanied with a quiet plea for her intuition, just this once, to be inaccurate. Tears filled her eyes to the brim, and slowly she turned the knob of the bedroom, and pushed the door open.

Zelda is a witch, a gifted and powerful one at that. She rarely is terrified of anything, but the sight before her made her both physically and spiritually weak. With her hands covering her lips, she had to muffle a horrified screen. Celeste lay by the foot of her bed. The crimson blood stained the white night gown she wore, and even at death, the moonlight seemed to only make her more beautiful. Zelda ran to her side and lifted her upper body so that it rested on her lap. She has been shot at the spine in what seemed like a robbery.

“ _No, please do not take her away from me._ ” In all the bare honesty, she did not know whom she was talking to—Satan, Lucifer, the Universe, God? She just pleaded with all her might to anyone who would listen. Zelda had to think fast, with all her blind obedience to her faith that must account to something. A resurrection spell, but she had to move fast if she was to achieve it. With merely a thought, she had everything she needed—a bowl of water, candles, her Book of Shadows, salt, and a few more apparatus.  
The witch wasted not even a fraction of a second. The salt was laid in a perfect circle and a pentagram drawn on the floor using water. Celeste lay in the middle as the candles burnt fervently, lifeless. There Zelda sat, eyes closed summoning upon the forces that she knew were far more powerful than herself. It was her arrogance, her over-confidence, and desperation that made her think she was sufficient to meddle with the affairs of both the living and the dead. After finishing the concoction of Latin spells, Celeste took a breath, and Zelda swore she will become Catholic if this was their God’s doing (but, that would be utterly stupid, no?)

It was in her best effort to crawl into the circle despite feeling all the energy from her body drain out. She just wanted to feel Celeste warmth and hold her.

“ _Zelda, mon amour_ ,” her voice was hoarse, but she held on to Zelda as if to regain strength that the witch knew she could not provide at that moment. The couple stayed like that for a good hour before Celeste bid goodbye, once again. This time it was more painful to Zelda than seeing her just thrown out to the ground. Zelda knew it was time to let Celeste go. She’d meddled enough is such affairs with repercussions she could only imagine. Of course she helped with all the preparations for the funeral— nothing less than perfect. Zelda was also burdened with the task of informing the family. You learn something new everyday, she did not know that her heart is capable to break so many times in a matter of two days.

 

Zelda wasn’t able to attend the funeral, though, maybe, it was for the best. She couldn’t possibly have survived it. The Spellman was summoned back to Greendale to face her family and the High Priest.

“ _Zelda Phiona Spellman, you dare tarnish our good name by your recklessness,_ ” a resounding slap had welcomed her home, by her mother no less. The woman displayed no pain aside from the tiniest wince from the stinging in her reddened cheek.

“ _Zelda Phiona Spellman, you dare meddle in the affairs that even witches are not allowed to dip their toes in. As Satan’s emissary, I, therefore sentence that you will not be able to use your gifts and powers in all matters that regard Life— In creation nor destruction of it. Either you accept this, or you face excommunication from the High Church of Night.”_

“ _I accept._ ” Her voice was low. Honestly, she knows what she did, and she knows that the punishment will be far from light.

It was a price she should pay for thinking she could lift the veil between Life and Death. She was foolish enough to think herself adequate, that Love is enough. Truth is no one can have the best of both worlds; of love and power; of her and Celeste.

Oh, but it was nearly worth the price to be able to hear her name from her lover’s lips that one last time. It was those quiet moments of her breathing, and the way she’d held on to her arms, desperate for the pain to stop. Priceless is the last smile Celeste gave during the last minute of her second life, now she is one with the Universe. Her beauty will be seen on the bright sun rays and how the stars shone above. She was and forever will be her Celeste.

 

 

**_Greendale, 2018_ **

Such a glorious afternoon to be spent inside the Mortuary. A drive around town sounded quite nice once every year. The witch settled on a spot next to the river that separates Greendale from another town, and it was almost sundown. Swiftly, she opened a bottle of vintage sauvignon, and poured herself a glass all the while never tearing her sight away from the view. It was hard not to think of Celeste without tears falling.

“This is to you, mon amour,” she raised the glass, filled to the brim as Celeste would like. “Happy Birthday.”

**Author's Note:**

> For Gina and Nikka
> 
> tell me what y’all think <3


End file.
